


Montages

by cranky__crocus



Category: Grey's Anatomy
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-30
Updated: 2010-09-30
Packaged: 2017-10-12 08:01:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/122680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cranky__crocus/pseuds/cranky__crocus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Callie works through the stress of her father's rejection; Arizona helps with whatever she can think of.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Montages

**Author's Note:**

> I believe I wrote this when one of the trivia questions on the ABC site asked how Callie would work through her problem with her father, or something of the sort. Or maybe what date she and Arizna would go on. Something like that. The episode just used one, but I decided to use all of them.

i.

 

            “Uhm, Torres?”

            “Not,” punch, “now,” punch, “I’m,” punch, “working,” punch punch, “OUT!”

            “As if _that_ isn’t evident,” Mark remarked, leaning against a vacant punching bag and gasping as his weight shifted the gym equipment. He stood tall and wrapped an arm around it as if the event had never taken place, a hand shooting straight up to smooth his hair. “Whose face are you picturing this time?”

            “I’m pulverizing a puppy,” punch punch twirling kick. “How do you know,” kick, “I’m picturing a _face_?” she shot back with a final jab to the swinging blue bag. She whirled on a dime to stare down the man.

            “You’ve got that ‘an intern just broke my cast’ look. That usually means you’re imagining someone’s demise.”

            “ _Your_ face, then, nosey. Breaking it. Yours.”

            “You are so off your game today, Torres. What’s up? Whose face?”

            “Effing hell! I know you’re my Person and all, but can’t a girl get some space to punch a bag to death?” Callie sighed and wiped her glove across her forehead. It slid across her slick skin. She bit her lip as a lump formed in her throat. “It’s…” but she paused and then gave up altogether. “It’s nothing, Mark.”

            “Fine. I’m bringing in the backup.”

            “We’re in a gym, Mark, a place you _stalked_ me to. You’re not going to find backup.” The woman shot a look over her shoulder at the bag, just ceasing its motion.

            “Is that so?” Mark looked over his own shoulder in turn and gave a quick jerk of his chin. A blonde woman stepped from behind the wall leading to the locker rooms.

            “Hi, Calliope…” she greeted almost shyly, not familiar with this turf that was entirely Callie’s. “I’m sorry for following, Mark said you were upset…”

            The glare the man received from the Latina could have knocked a life-size elephant statue off its pedestal. He turned and fled without a word, just a quick glance to the paeds surgeon—a mixture of luck and hope.

            “Hello Arizona,” Callie greeted her girlfriend. She turned to the bag and stared. “Do you mind if I punch as we talk?”

            Arizona smiled sadly at the woman’s acknowledgement that they would undoubtedly be having ‘a talk.’ The blonde nodded her head and sat on the bench near the bags, lifting her legs up to hug her knees. “Are you okay?”

            “I’m just dandy. Pulverizing puppies and an hour away from drinking myself into a dizzy.” She commenced her beating on the sad little bag. “How could life be better?”

            “Calliope, you’re being difficult…” her companion said, as if to a child. A sigh escaped as she looked up. A little smile spread. “Tell me a story, a hypothetical story, and I’ll take you out on a wonderful date tonight.”

            Callie paused and rested her cheek against her collarbone, eyes angled toward the blonde. “Will I get to be drunk?”

            “Drink away.”

            “Do I get to work out as I tell the story?”

            “Whatever activity you want, provided I can hear you. Especially if it’s the sauna. I could even participate with that one.” Arizona gave a little giggle, her dimples peeking out with her smile.

            “Deal. Time for treadmill anyway.”

            The two settled themselves, Arizona holding Callie’s gloves and the latter chugging along at a slow speed on the machine.

            “So, once upon a time there was a beautiful little girl who grew up in a sunny state…”

            “Callie, this story isn’t supposed to be about me!” the paeds surgeon said with a flutter of lashes. They both broke out in giggles. Callie damned her girlfriend for being so good with people, when all she wanted to be was maladjusted and drunk like any good angry lesbian.

            “Once upon a time there was a beautiful little girl who grew up in _Miami_ …”

 

 

ii.

 

            Arizona pressed a towel against the bottom of her hair to rid it of the water from the hot tub. She grinned. “If you do that every time, I want to come work out with you more often.”

            “For that you’d have to do some _working out_ , Arizona. Go swimming. Something.” Callie towelled herself off and slipped out of her one-piece without thought. It was the gym locker room, after all—she was used to just stripping like everyone else; there was little thought that her girlfriend was in the room. When the brunette looked up, she saw that the woman was beet red. Callie wrapped the towel around herself before slipping into her lace panties. “Sorry, I forget. Public place.”

            “As if the opportunity to see my girlfriend naked is an occasion for apologies,” Arizona retorted with a wry smile and a wink. She turned and slipped from her borrowed bathing suit, too big for her but covering her well enough for use. She heard a gasp from behind her and turned to hand the suit back. A smile was perched on the blonde’s lip. “Now we’re even.”

            Callie shook her head, laughing as she twisted the suit and hung it on a hanger to go back into her vented locker.

            “Where are we going tonight, then? When do I get my drink?”

            Arizona finished pulling on her t-shirt and chuckled. “Has anyone ever told you patience is not your biggest virtue?”

            “Yes. I was told it was sex. By a manwhore. I think that gives me credit,” the taller female responded, lips tugged up in a grin. Her eyebrow rose. “Now, about that drink…?”

            “First I’m taking you to a group I’m part of. Then we’ll join the celebrations.”

            “What group would that be?” Callie slung her gym bag over her shoulder and turned to wait for Arizona, who was only a step behind.

            “I’m bringing you to church.”

            “Seriously?” the Latina almost hit her head on an open locker in her shock but narrowly managed to duck before collision. “You’re taking me to a _church_?”

            She witnessed a smug smile from her girlfriend, who took her hand. “You’ll be pleasantly surprised. I promise.”

 

 

iii.

 

            Callie stepped into the building and stopped, the door thudding softly against her now stationary shoe. The woman stared around, wide-eyed and open-mouthed.

            “There is no way this is a church.”

            “Really? I must be deceiving myself when I come here most Sundays, then,” Arizona murmured as she stepped in behind her girlfriend and opened the door wider. The blonde looked up and smiled at some of the women in the foyer. “Mel, Nance! This is Calliope.”

            “Callie, please,” the woman whispered with continued looks around. She wasn’t paying a spot of attention to what she was saying; it rolled off her tongue automatically. “Friends call me Callie. Except Crazy McPerky here.”

            A tall and slender black-haired woman stepped up with a smile. “‘Crazy McPerky?’” she repeated, looking to her friend. “Apt description.”

            Arizona gave her hand a swat and pulled her girlfriend into the room. The other woman, who was considerably larger with her strong ortho body, was hard to move.

            “It’s rainbow. And there are so many religious symbols I don’t know what part of town I’m in. Huge amounts of coffee. Paganism and science and…” Callie rambled as she continued to take in the room. “ _Where am I_ , and _when_ did we leave Kansas?”

            “Oh, she references Wizard of Oz!” a shorter female remarked when she followed the party to the door. “Adorable.”

            Arizona knew Callie had to be _very_ out of it to not give a glare over being called adorable by a stranger. She gave her girlfriend’s arm a substantial tug.

            “Welcome to the Unitarian Universalist Church!” Arizona introduced with a smile. “Specifically, the Friday evening gathering of Interweave.”

            “Interweave?” Callie reiterated, confusion sprawled across her features.

            “Interweave,” the shorter woman confirmed, smiling. “LGBTQ-friendly group for community, support and activism. Friends of mine.”

            She sent a smile to her friends, grabbed her girlfriend’s hand and pulled her toward the sermon room.

 

 

iv.

 

            “You think I should pray?” Callie questioned as she took a seat in the chair before her, close to the pulpit. The large committee group was off in the corner of the expansive room not providing too much noise, save an occasional outburst of laughter.

            “Yes, Calliope. When you were upset about Izzie you took us straight to the chapel. Mark told me from Addison that after I kissed you one of the first things you did was pray.” Arizona smiled. “It’s in your blood, or your person, or just your beliefs—whatever it is, it’s you. I don’t judge you for that. If you’re upset and want to pray, I’m here for you—or I can go off and play in the corner!”

            The brunette smiled and took her girlfriend’s hand. “Thank you. It’s wiser for me to pray before I’m drunk, anyway. You should hear the sort of prayers I have when I’ve downed a few drinks.”

            Arizona’s response was a smile and a squeeze to the woman’s hand. Callie turned and faced the pulpit, behind it a number of statuettes and a large stained-glass window with natural tree trunks on either side. It was a comfortable spot.

            “God?” she called softly, looking to the heavens briefly in hope. “This here is Butterfly McPerky I told you about, the paeds surgeon who kissed me.”

            She paused and could almost hear Arizona’s smile widen, somehow, could feel the compassion that would be radiating from her girlfriend’s patient blue eyes.

            Callie continued. “I got passed the perky butterflies. I got so _passed_ them that I now _love_ them. She has really helped me find myself, picked up my pieces and helped me get myself back together after George and Erica and now I’m better than I’ve ever been before.”

            She paused and swallowed, tears welling in her eyes.

            “I know you’ll understand that because you’re a God of love. Please help my father and family see that. Please let them see beyond body parts the way I saw beyond butterflies. Please let them see that I have my special fire back, that I’m back to being their Calliope Torres and that it’s in great part due to Arizona.”

            The devout woman ducked her head and allowed a tear to escape. Arizona was respecting her space. Callie appreciated it.

“Please don’t make me choose between my new identity, my new life…and my family. I don’t want to say goodbye to anyone. I feel stable, I’m walking tall, I’m _happy_. Please let that continue.” She looked up and gave the stained-glass rainbow another hopeful smile. “ _ **Que será, será**_.”

            She turned to Arizona and smiled, spreading her arms to offer an embrace of gratitude. The slender blonde melded into Callie, smiling with such a mixture of emotions Callie could barely read it: pride, compassion, joy, love and a few sadder hues of hope and regret.

            “Thank you, Arizona, that helped a lot,” Callie whispered into her love’s hair. “I forget sometimes how good that feels.”

            Arizona pulled back and gave a full smile, head tilted and hand in Callie’s. “I’m glad. It helps me, too, but I like to do it outdoors near water.”

            “Really? I’ve never tried that.”

            The paeds surgeon brushed her finger down the woman’s nose and grinned. “We’ll just have to give it a try some time, then, won’t we? Now come on, I want you to meet my friends.”

            Callie became acquainted with a group of straight supporters, lesbians, gay men, bisexuals, transgender folk of various gender identities and a number of people who just weren’t quite sure or preferred to live without specific labels. The surgeon couple were approximately the age median, the group ranging from bantering teenagers to wise-eyed elders.

            Callie felt comfortable. That was a blessing.

 

 

v.

 

            The woman noticed that the group was dispersing as a unit, for the most part.

            “We’re leaving? Together?” Callie whispered to Arizona. Two hours didn’t seem like a lot with the group, but she was surprised that they all planned to move somewhere together.

            “Mmm. This is just the gathering at the church! Now we’re heading back to Nance’s. She hosts a late night gathering for the over 21s. Drinks and games, laughs and the like. We don’t actually have to _act_ adult.”

            “Drinking at a church gathering?”

            “It makes things interesting. We’re adults, after all, why shouldn’t we? We have wine tasting at our summer retreat, why not have some drinks after a committee meeting?”

            Callie couldn’t argue the logic. Then again, she always found herself at a loss when trying to argue against alcohol.

            The two drove off in Arizona’s little cutesy car and followed a line of vehicles leaving the congregation. Ten minutes later they pulled into a long driveway. It was dark when they ducked out of the car and looked around the yard. Arizona was smiling wide.

            “This is Nance’s. We went shopping for drinks together last week expecting this to be a big gathering. There should be enough for you to get sufficiently drunk.”

            Callie grinned. “That’s what I’m talking about.”

            The house was large. The living room was the largest room on the floor. The kitchen drew the Latina in immediately: it was filled with bottles of all assortments. She smiled when Arizona set up tequila shots. The woman knew her too well sometimes.

            After two the blonde pulled Callie into the living room. The large television now had two pads on the floor in front of it. Callie laughed as soon as she saw them.

            “DDR. You’re going to make me play DDR as we get drunk.”

            “No, that won’t be me. Nance will be making you play DDR. I mentioned you’ve played before.”

            “Tell me you will be playing too?” Callie asked hopefully.

            Arizona sighed and laughed. “I’m terrible, but yes I’ll try.”

            An evening of DDR, wii, charades, dancing and Cranium followed. By the end of the evening most of the adults were at least pleasantly tipsy. Callie had laughed more than she could remember laughing in a very long time. She frowned when Arizona mentioned it was time to go home.

            “That’s too bad. Hate when good things end,” Callie said as she hugged Nance goodbye. The woman was a laugh.

            “Well this good thing happens at least once a month, sometimes more. I hope you’ll come.” Nance gave her shoulder a squeeze and went off to say goodbye to the others.

            Callie turned to Arizona, both still smiling. “Will I be back?”

            “You will be back,” Arizona insisted with a broader smile. She leaned up and kissed Callie’s lips. “For now we’re back to my place.”

            “Oh?”

            “Yes. I said wonderful date. Wonderful dates, I’ve decided, include sex.”

            “Even drunken sex?”

            “After seeing DDR and dancing...yes, even drunken sex.”

            Callie smiled and waved to the others as she was dragged from the house. She remarked, “My kind of woman.”

 

 

vi.

 

            Callie finished her glass and set it on the table in Arizona’s kitchen. She was very drunk now. She grasped the kitchen counter and smiled at the spinning. Somehow she found her way to the couch.

            “Dear God...” she began as she fell back onto the comfortable cushions. Soon enough, she faintly recognised, she was no longer speaking English. “I probably won’t be as articulate as I was...before, when I was talking to you in a church. But now I’m at Arizona’s house. It’s a comfortable house. She’s sexy. I like Arizona. I think you like Arizona! I think you should make Father like Arizona. But not because she’s sexy, because _I_ think she’s sexy, and I’m not sure what I would think if my father thought she was sexy.”

            Her eyes boggled out. “Dear God, I think I feel lips on my stomach.”

            Arizona had finished drying off and had snuck up on Callie, pressing lips to the woman’s stomach and inching up her shirt. It took a while for Callie to reprogram her brain to English.

            “Sexy Arizona,” she murmured, grinning like a fool. “Drunken sexy time.”

            “You just keep on praying...or...whatever you’re doing in Spanish. It’s hot.”

            Callie’s head lolled back as she felt a tongue snake along the elastic line of her panties. Soon a flowing, slurred voice filled the room praying about sexy time and fathers and friends and surgery, panting interspersed and bodies shining with sweat. She had been given the gifts of tongue, she surmised with her drunken lilting voice in Spanish, but currently it wasn’t anything comparing with _Arizona’s_.

            When she came down she smiled and gently pulled up a blonde head of hair.

            “Thank you...thank you for today, and just then,” she said in English. She flipped herself over to top Arizona. “I’m going to use my tongue now.”

            “So you’ve proven,” Arizona responded delightedly. In seconds she was moaning further evidence.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it. (:


End file.
